


Dead Reckoning

by Willa Shakespeare (AnonEhouse)



Series: Memory Wipe [2]
Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Amnesia, Gen, Post Gauda Prime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 09:52:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/620819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/Willa%20Shakespeare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a sequel to Pilot Program.</p><p>No one's particularly happy with their incomplete memories, but Avon is stubbornly refusing to let them use Orac as therapy to regain them. Soolin and Vila decide to leave the ship... but nothing is ever quite as simple as that for our heroes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dead Reckoning

(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)

"Come on, Avon. You know you'll have to help us sooner or later. Why not now? Vila and Soolin are getting restless, you know. " Tarrant was exasperated. He'd been all over Vindicator searching for Avon, and now that he'd finally located the man he wanted to see more than the soles of his boots. He kicked lightly at Avon's legs, getting a snarl and twitch in response. "Will you kindly get out from under that console?"

"Why?" Noises continued to emerge from under the machinery. Avon appeared fully engrossed in his study/ repair/ modification.

But he always appeared busy. Frequently on parts of the ship that Tarrant knew full well were performing beyond specifications already. "You've been hiding in the circuitry for weeks now. You promised..."

Avon suddenly backed out to glare up at Tarrant. "I promised nothing! You gave me little choice about accompanying you and Dayna. Then you decided to add Vila and Soolin to the crew. You've made your own problems entirely without my input, and you can handle them by yourself."

"What about Dayna?" He had noticed that Avon had a soft spot- well, an area of less than adamant- where Dayna was concerned. And Dayna seemed to like Avon in return, which was totally unfathomable to the pilot, and not a little annoying. But jealousy had nothing to do with it. Not much anyway.

"Dayna doesn't need my help. Neither do any of you." He moved as if to slide back under the console.

Tarrant's outburst stopped him. "Then we'll use your pet Orac without your help!"

"I wouldn't advise it." Avon's soft-spoken remark made the hair on the back of Tarrant's neck stand on end.

"Is that a threat, Avon?" Given sufficient provocation Tarrant could be menacing, too. 

"Take it as you like. Orac is not a toy. And memory revision is not something for amateurs to play with."

"I know that. But you're the only one who knows what was taken from us and you won't even discuss it. What else can we do?"

"Wait. Your memories will come back on their own. The dreams you and the others have experienced are proof that the procedure is failing."

"But it's too slow. Can't you see, Avon? It's dangerous, for us- all of us- not to have our full memories. The Federation is after us. We need all the skills we learned during our years on the run."

"The skills are intact. There is nothing to be gained by forcing memories to return prematurely," Avon said quietly. He met Tarrant's eyes, nearly pleading. "Can't you see that? I remember those years, Tarrant, and there was precious little about them that you should want to remember. Let the memories return on their own, and it will be less traumatic."

"And less complete."

"Which is why it would be better." He turned back to the console. "I will not use Orac in that way. And I will not be involved in this- in any way."

"And that's your last word on the subject?" Absolute silence met his query. "I thought so." Tarrant shook his head and left. The others were not going to be pleased. He used the ship's intercom to ask them to meet him in the recreation room to hear Avon's reply to their request. Dayna was already there, using the central table as a work area, and Vila had stopped by for refreshments, so they only had to wait for Soolin, who joined them soon after Tarrant arrived.

"So, what did Sir Snooty have to say?" Vila said, once they were all present. He was mad at Avon and made no bones about it. At least not when Avon was out of earshot.

"What do you think? The easy way's out, so it's back to dead reckoning."

Vila started. "Dead? Who's dead?"

"Dead reckoning, Vila," Tarrant explained. "Ancient atmosphere pilot's term for navigating by human computation. De'd is short for deduced. You had to compute your position by airspeed, compass direction and time flown."

"It sounds very complicated."

"And inefficient," Dayna remarked.

"It worked, provided you made no mistakes and your instruments didn't malfunction. Avon thinks it's better for us to remember naturally, without relying on Orac to speed up the process." Tarrant sighed. "I believe he's really afraid to talk about the past and is terrified that we'd use Orac to find out what happened to us."

Dayna looked up from the weapon she was assembling. "Terrified? Somehow that doesn't sound like Avon."

"Of course it does." Soolin was at Dayna's side, interested in the powerful handgun Dayna had promised to make for her, to replace the one she'd left on Servalan's ship. "It's obvious. We've been on your ship for weeks and hardly ever see him. He's avoiding us."

"And when we do see him, he says something nasty and runs off before you can even give him a good come-back," Vila complained. 

"He's definitely hiding something." Soolin twirled a length of blonde braid between her fingers, while she thought. "You know, Vila and I only agreed to stay with you after Sleer..."

"Servalan," Dayna put in.

"Servalan, then- after she used knock-out gas on all of us because we thought you might be right about her being our enemy. But if our enemy knows more about us than we do it's a hopeless battle."

"We could use Orac by ourselves," Vila suggested. He didn't sound too confident. By now, they'd all discovered how uncooperative Avon's computer was with anyone other than its avowed master.

"Avon warned against that," Tarrant said. "And for once I agree with him. That computer is quite capable of frying your brain."

Soolin frowned. "Then there really isn't any point in Vila and I staying with you."

Dayna said, "But Soolin..."

"No. I like you, and for me, that's saying quite a lot, but Servalan is after this ship. I know better than any of you just what resources she has. I'm getting off at the first neutral world we pass. Once I'm away from Vindicator I won't have anything Servalan wants and I doubt she'll expend much energy on tracking me down."

"Vila?" Dayna asked, hoping the thief did not agree with Soolin.

Vila looked from one woman to the other, then shrugged. "I'm a thief. You don't really need me anyway. And I'm sure to be safer on a nice, friendly planet."

"Tarrant, please?" Dayna was nearly in tears. She wanted them to stay together, not to crew the ship, but for company- family, even. She felt comfortable with them in a way she'd never felt with any of the people she'd worked with under the Federation's rule. She'd never had many friends and she hated to lose these two.

"If they want to go, we can't stop them, Dayna," Tarrant said gently. "If Avon ..."

"But Avon won't." Dayna turned back to the pile of gun parts, disconsolately turning the pieces over. "I tried asking him," she admitted. "He won't even talk about those days. Not even the bits we do remember."

"Should have seen how he bit my head off when I mentioned Cally," Vila put in.

"Cally?" Soolin asked.

"Um. Maybe you didn't know her." Vila scratched his head. "You weren't with us from the beginning- whatever the beginning was. You only lost a year or so- they took more than four years from me. Can't even remember all the pretty women I must have met," he mourned.

"You must?" Soolin asked, amused.

"Of course. Fella as good-looking, clever and talented as me? Why, they were probably falling all over me in droves. Ah hah, bet that's why Avon won't talk about the past. I say it's jealousy, pure and simple!"

A dry, mocking voice from the corridor commented, "We can be sure anything you say is simple, Vila, but I'm not convinced about the pure part." Avon lounged in the doorway, outwardly at ease, but Dayna noticed the lines of tension around his eyes. 

"Soolin and Vila are leaving, Avon, " Dayna said. 

"Amazing, someone on board this ship is showing good sense. It must have been Soolin's idea."

The blonde acknowledged the compliment with a smile, then said, "You could try to convince us to stay."

"Why should I do that? You have come to a reasoned, logical decision. I applaud you." He clapped his hands briefly. "You should have arrived at it sooner. Servalan is not a forgiving enemy. She will undoubtedly capture or destroy this ship eventually. Preferably destroy. And anyone who is fool enough to be on it will be destroyed with it."

"Then why don't you leave, Avon?" Tarrant asked, irritated by Avon's constant sniping and pessimism.

"Is that an option?" Avon turned on Tarrant, surprised. "I had thought you considered me part of your theft. Am I free to leave- with Orac, of course?"

"As far as I'm concerned, neither you nor your plastic friend are any use to me." 

Avon smiled. "In that case..." He turned to Dayna. "You heard our 'captain'. I'm no longer wanted. I'm going to have Orac locate a suitable planet for our parting of the ways." He turned and headed for the door.

Dayna sniffed audibly. "Avon, please don't go."

He stopped. After a moment he said gently, without turning back, "It's for the best, Dayna. You'll find that out in time." He resumed walking.

None of the others had anything to add. Awkwardly, Vila tried to comfort Dayna with a pat on the back. She turned aside, shrugging off his hand. "Oh, go on, why don't you? Tarrant and I will manage very well without you, I'm sure." She scrubbed the back of her hand across her eyes. "We'll find you a nice, safe little planet where I hope you'll all be very happy." She gulped, and fled before she could embarrass herself further. 

Tarrant followed, knowing she wasn't in a mood for sympathy yet, but needed his support, even if she did shout at him for offering it.

In the suddenly too-quiet room Vila looked at Soolin . "Well, that's put the cat amongst the canaries," he said.

"Vila. Shut up. I would like to stay. It just isn't sensible. Not without knowing our pasts."

***

"Dayna, please listen to me." Tarrant had followed Dayna to their cabin, only to have her turn her back to him. He put his arms around her, but she was stiff in his embrace.

"I don't want to. You weren't any help." She pulled away from him. "You don't like Avon, you never have. You deliberately drove him away. And you didn't try to stop Soolin and Vila. I think you don't want me to have any friends."

"That's ridiculous. Look, I'd put up with Avon forever to make you happy, but his presence wasn't making you happy. He doesn't want to be here. It shows in everything he does and says. I thought after a while he'd accept the situation, but he hasn't. He resents me dragging him out of his splendid isolation and constantly pulls away from every offer of companionship. You're not the only one who tried to befriend him, you know. Soolin didn't try too hard, I admit, but Vila was persistent and got slapped down every time. Avon hates it here."

"Then why hasn't he already left? We stopped for supplies twice. He could have jumped ship."

"I don't know. Probably thought it would be too chancy trying to sneak out with Orac." Tarrant paused. "And maybe he didn't want to hurt you, but he can't stay, not like this. And as for Soolin and Vila - well, I hate to say it, but we can't trust them. They were working too closely with Servalan, and came over to our side too easily. What if she had given them something besides amnesia? Something like a programmed response to kill us under the proper circumstances?"

"They wouldn't!"

"Federation programmers can make a person do just about anything, Dayna. Without Avon and Orac to check them out, we'd never be sure, never feel safe with them."

Dayna shivered and returned to Tarrant's arms. She pressed her head against his chest and muttered, "It's just so lonely, Del. They were our friends. Even Avon."

He patted her back. "Yes. In his own way, I suppose he was. But they need to go, and we can't make them stay. Not any longer."

***

"There it is. Beautiful Helibah III, the garden paradise of the galaxy." Tarrant shook his head, wondering once more at Avon's choice. Orac had advised him, so there must have been some positive aspect to the place, but Tarrant couldn't see it.

"Doesn't look like much, does it?" Vila remarked, dubiously. The gray-green sphere visible on the viewscreen was an uninviting sight.

"There generally is a reason when the Federation leaves an inhabitable planet in a well-populated sector alone. Violent seismic activity, lethal micro-organisms, severe atmospheric disturbances," Avon droned on, as Vila's eyes grew rounder with alarm, "hostile alien life-forms..."

"Which is it?" Vila squeaked.

Avon raised an eyebrow. "On Helibah, do you mean?"

Soolin said, "Don't worry, Vila. Avon's coming with us, so it can't be quite as bad as all that."

"I'm only sharing the planet with you briefly. You'll find Helibah's drawback once we land." Avon smiled. "It isn't exactly hazardous."

***

The authorities on Helibah were so lax that it had taken Dayna an hour on the communicator to find someone to give them landing clearance. The native had sounded amused that anyone considered it necessary to ask. When Dayna said they'd be looking for crew he eagerly began detailing his own qualifications. With some difficulty, she persuaded him to wait until they landed to present his credentials. As they landed, Dayna wondered what could make people despise the planet so. It had snowy mountains, clear lakes, plains dotted with huge herds of presumably edible beasts. And yet there was only one spaceport, surrounded by a sprawling, ill-planned straggle of mis-matched buildings.

They found out the reason the instant they opened the airlock on landing. The air was heavily laced with sulfur compounds, presumably harmless as the ship's automatic atmosphere analyzer had made no protest, but incredibly horrid to breathe. "Avon, you bastard!" Vila choked. He gasped and thought he'd die. "I'll kill him for this."

"Stand in line, Vila," Tarrant said as he quickly shut both the inner and outer airlocks and purged the contaminated air. 

"Really, Avon." Soolin coughed. "That was a pretty foul trick." Avon smiled. Soolin looked closer and noticed that he was wearing nose filters, and the last small shred of sympathy she had for the man evaporated. She narrowed her eyes and he stopped smiling.

He spread his hands innocently. "You should be prepared for anything the universe can throw at you. I was merely giving you a refresher course in basic survival. Trust no one."

"Fine." Soolin had made up her mind to carry out the plan she'd been toying with as they journeyed to Helibah. Up to this moment, she wasn't sure she'd do it. She drew the gun Dayna had made for her. "I'll take your advice. Vila, get Orac and come here."

The others gaped at her. Soolin's gun hand was steady. "I mean it. Do it, Vila. Now."

"This is crazy, Soolin," Dayna protested. "Why?"

"There could be many reasons," Soolin said. "I could want to trade it to Servalan."

Avon made a noise at that. He glared at her. 

"On the other hand," she continued, "Servalan is not known for her generosity. I might just keep it as a souvenir. Get it, Vila," her voice was deadly now.

Vila picked up the computer. "Funny," he said, "I can distinctly remember always being the one to jackass this box of bolts around. Wonder why?"

"Type-casting, Vila." With Vila standing before her, holding the computer, she turned to Avon. "The key, Avon."

Slowly, he drew out the clear plastic actuator from his pocket. He held it out.

"Put it in Orac- not in place, just drop it inside."

Avon complied silently, staring at her without blinking, tensed for an opportunity to jump her. 

"Avon, don't." Tarrant put a hand on the other man's sleeve. "Is it really worth your life?" He looked at Soolin. "I don't remember much about you, Soolin, but somehow, I hadn't thought betrayal in your line."

"One thing you should remember, Tarrant. I don't give my loyalty, I sell my skills. You made me lose a profitable career. I'm taking this in exchange." She nudged Vila toward the airlock controls.

Avon took a step forward, eyes blazing. "No, Avon, Dammit!" Tarrant wrestled him back, before he could get shot. "Let it go, man!" Avon struggled for a moment, then subsided. He watched as Vila opened the airlocks under Soolin's orders, then preceded her outside, still carrying the computer.

The instant Soolin's face disappeared behind the closing door, Avon hit the release mechanism. It didn't work.

***

"Um, Soolin, I don't think this is such a good idea." Vila pocketed the tools he'd used to fuse the door mechanism. "I mean it sounded all right before, stealing Avon's toy- he did deserve it, the stuck-up so and so, but I don't know, where are we going to find a buyer here? And he's going to be hunting us, you do know that? One thing's obvious about Avon, he believes in revenge- and did you notice how possessive he is?"

Soolin ignored this tirade. She located a small luggage toter. The thing had a tiny memory and a slot for credit disks. Feed it and it would follow you anywhere- until the money ran out and it returned to the space port looking for another job. "Put Orac on this and fix it so it thinks I've paid."

"Great. At least I'll have both hands free when Avon comes after me." He dumped the computer on the carry rack and knelt beside the antiquated trolley. After a few seconds fiddling the machine hummed and rolled forward, stopping just behind Soolin. She snapped the opaque cover over Orac and nodded.

"Right. That about does it. Vila." She turned the gun on him. "I'm afraid we've come to a parting of the ways."

"What!" Vila was outraged. "Didn't you ever hear about honor among thieves?"

"Actually what I heard is that there isn't any honor among thieves. Get going, Vila and hurry. Avon may open that airlock any second now."

"Nah, he couldn't..." Vila looked back at an imagined noise from the ship. "He might, though. Especially if he's mad enough to blow the cipher-indent lock." Vila took off at a run for the sagging gate leading to the seedy spaceport neighborhoods. He glanced back over his shoulder once, but Soolin and the luggage trolley had already disappeared.

***

"Vila's destroyed the mechanism," Tarrant pointed out, after Avon smashed his fist against the inoperative controls for the second time. 

"I know that." Avon turned aside from the door. "Dayna, have you any explosive devices?"

"Now, wait a minute," Tarrant protested before she could answer. "Beyond the fact that this is my ship you're planning to blow up- we're inside it at the moment."

"I only intend to remove the fused lock. The detonation will be quite small and harmless."

Dayna nodded. "All right, I have some timer charges that should do. Come and pick out what you need." She led Avon to her workshop, leaving Tarrant to worry about the proposed sabotage.

"What I'd really like is a gun," Avon told her on the way.

"Sorry. I only finished one so far."

"And gave it to Soolin," Avon commented.

Dayna shrugged. "She's a gunfighter. She needed one, she said. How was I to know she'd turn on us?"

"A modicum of suspicion would do you a world of good."

"Like it's done for you?"

Avon grinned. "Indubitably." 

Dayna relaxed and smiled back. She didn't understand why, but Avon had thawed toward her. Perhaps it was because he'd been expecting betrayal all along. Now that it had finally happened, he could afford to trust her, after all, the damage had already been done.

When they returned with the explosives, Tarrant asked, "Are you two are sure you know what you're doing? I would hate to have to re-fit here. Somehow, I doubt the quality of the parts and workmanship."

"No need to fuss," Dayna said cheerfully. "It's just a little squib, really. You'll hardly notice."

Several minutes later, when the dust began to settle, and his ears finally stopped ringing, Tarrant looked up at a beaming Dayna. "Couldn't resist, could you?"

"Sometimes you just aren't any fun. Avon, don't you like 'things that go bang',?" 

Avon scowled at Dayna and continued brushing the dust from his jumpsuit, formerly Federation black, now sooty gray. "No." He stalked out the wide-open airlock, with Dayna happily on his heels. Tarrant sighed and rose to put the internal security locks on, so they'd have a ship when they returned. Then he followed them.

***

"I can't say much about Avon's taste in planets," Tarrant commented once he caught up to Dayna. He held his hand over his nose, but that didn't help much. 

"Oh, sorry, Del." Dayna produced a pair of nose filters. "Here. These aren't comfortable, but they help."

"Thanks." Once he'd put in the filters, he could think less about the stench and more about the situation he found himself in. Hadn't he intended to let Avon, Soolin and Vila go their own ways? Why did he even care if Avon got Orac back from Soolin? He stared ahead at Avon's back. There was a certain pleasurable familiarity in following Avon. Not that he usually enjoyed following. Del Tarrant was a natural born leader- so why did it feel so right to dog Avon's steps? Avon had automatically taken the lead, assuming they would back him up. He hadn't asked, much less ordered, but was not at all surprised when they did follow. That brand of leadership wasn't taught at the Federation Space Academy. 

Suddenly annoyed with himself for falling so readily into subservient behavior, Tarrant lengthened his stride and caught up with Avon. "Where are we going, Avon?"

"The nearest port bar."

"What?"

"You may not remember Vila, but I do. The Vindicator was originally intended as a military vessel. None of the refreshments in her supply were intoxicants. By this time I should imagine Soolin will have had enough of him and sent him packing. He will undoubtedly be drowning his sorrows and feeling very sorry for himself. But not as sorry as he will once I get my hands on him."

"Er. You aren't going to do anything hasty, are you?"

A flash of teeth in a not-quite-smile met that question. "I don't think so. Strangulation is rather slow. At least when properly done." He turned suddenly, entering a dimly lit establishment whose purpose was announced not by signs, but by the inebriated bodies piled against its exterior wall. Apparently public drunkenness didn't rate very highly as a criminal offense here. 

"I think he's joking," Dayna said. 

"But on the other hand..." Tarrant exchanged a worried look with her and quickly ducked into the bar. The squalor inside made him doubly grateful for the nose filters. Stepping around slumped bodies, which could as well be corpses for all he could tell, he found Avon interrogating the barman. It was a brief conversation. Not a very satisfactory one, judging from Avon's expression. As Tarrant reached the bar, Avon shook his head and indicated the exit.

"Not here."

They repeated the scene several more times, with everyone involved getting more short-tempered. Tarrant acquired a talent for ducking flying glassware, and Dayna's knee became quite sore from fending off amorous drunks. Concerning the fate of the poor fools who made passes at Avon and Tarrant - the less said the better. All in all, it was quite fortunate for Vila that they found him in the fourth bar.

"Ulp. Avon. Tarrant. Dayna. " Vila slid backwards off the bar-stool onto unsteady legs. He raised his hands and smiled his most ingratiating best. "That was a good joke Soolin pulled, wasn't it?" He took in the unsmiling faces. "Hah, ha. She's already brought Orac back to you, hasn't she?" He backed further away.

"You never were very bright, Vila." Avon patted Vila gently on the cheek. The thief almost fainted. What was that he'd heard about the Terra Nostra, how they give you the 'kiss of death' just before they slit your throat? Avon wasn't one of them, though, was he? Vila went white, swaying. A pair of strong hands grabbed either arm and he hung limp between Tarrant and Avon. "Just make it quick, that's all I ask," he whimpered.

"You idiot." Avon pulled Vila up to face him. "Where is she? And where is it?"

"I dunno." Vila flinched at Avon's growl. "Really. She stole it from me, too." Indignation replaced the fear in his voice. "She had me rig a luggage trolley to carry it and she left."

"Come on, Vila," Dayna coaxed. "You didn't happen to take a peek which direction she went?"

"She was too fast." Vila yelped as Avon twisted his arm. "I'd tell you if I knew."

Abruptly, Avon dropped him. "Yes, I believe you. Soolin outsmarted us all." He sat down on the bar-stool beside Vila. The bartender sidled over, took one look at Avon's face, and decided to go polish some glasses at the other end of the bar for a while. "The most advanced computer in the known worlds, and a mercenary gunfighter has it." He laughed. "For all the good it did me, I suppose I should thank her for taking it."

"What will you do now?" Vila asked, the drink having temporarily obliterated his common sense. When Avon didn't answer, he continued, "Me, I'm going to get off this nowhere planet." He wrinkled his nose. "Go somewhere you can taste the booze and smell the flowers. And find something worth stealing." He put a companionable arm around Avon's shoulders. "Y'know, you and me, we could be something together."

"Yes, but what," Tarrant muttered.

Dayna shushed him. She was fascinated by the unfolding scene. Avon wasn't paying attention to Vila, but neither was he protesting the rambling nonsense, or the impertinent contact.

"I've seen you working- you've got good hands. Bet you could learn to pick locks with the best of 'em." Vila grinned. "I'm a good teacher, y' know."

"You've certainly taught me patience," Avon grumbled. He straightened. "Wait a minute. You rigged a trolley to carry Orac for her? Exactly what did you do?"

"Well, you know, those old spaceport trolleys. They register the credits you've paid and they follow you until the money runs out. I just told it Soolin had paid for an hour..."

"Which was over approximately ten minutes ago. So the trolley will return to the spaceport looking for another fare." Avon stood up and grasped Vila by the collar. "We are going back to the spaceport."

"We are?"

"And you are going to find that trolley."

"But, Avon, they all look alike," Vila wailed as Avon urged him ungently toward the door.

"I want that trolley, Vila, and you are going to get it for me." 

"I am?" Vila looked at Avon and nodded. "I am."

***

Vila sat down, huffing, on the cracked plast-crete before the Vindicator. "All right, we're here. The bloody trolley can't have got back this fast. So all we have to do is wait for it." He pulled off his shoe and dislodged a shower of pebbles. "You could have let me stop and take off my shoe, Avon. You've half crippled me."

Avon glared at Vila. "If I don't get Orac back, I'll finish the job."

"Avon, look!" Dayna tugged at Avon's sleeve, pointing out the trolley wobbling in their general direction. The thing listed badly to the left and kept up a sideways advance as its feeble computer brain attempted a straight-line course for its recharge station. Tarrant intercepted it, but the trolley stubbornly veered away from his grasp and continued heading for 'home'.

"Vila. Is that the one?" At the thief's nod, Avon pressed his hands on Vila's shoulders, "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Yes. I'm sure. One wonky left front wheel. Big scrape of blue paint on the right side, little half- moon shaped nick in the chrome-flash on the right side handle. That's it, I'd know it anywhere."

Avon released Vila. "Amazing how your memory has improved. Tarrant, let it recharge."

Tarrant stepped back and permitted the machine to plug itself into its station. It clacked its wheels at him once more, then subsided, buzzing softly as power fed into its cells.

"The computer that controls these machines is very limited, but they can be made to recall their most recent journeys," Avon said, kneeling beside the humming cart. He held out his hand without looking. Vila fumbled for a moment, then slapped the proper probe for opening up the inspection hatch covering the trolley's electronic works. Immersed in his chosen field, Avon ignored the others, gathered around to watch him. "Ah. There we are. That should do it." He neatly sealed up the hatch and returned Vila's tools to him. 

"That's it?" Tarrant asked as Avon stood up. "It's not doing anything."

"It has to recharge first. Do you want it to lead us halfway to Soolin, or all the way?"

"Considering the fact that she has a gun and we don't..." Tarrant started, but Avon wasn't listening to him anymore.

***

Soolin studied the room she'd rented. It wasn't much, but she didn't need much. She'd lived in worse. Although she'd never lived anyplace that smelled as bad. Presumably the natives got used to it, either that or it permanently deadened their sense of smell. She rubbed her hands along the sides of her jumpsuit, wiping off sweat. She was more nervous now than she'd been in years. A straight-forward gunfight was nothing to what she intended to do now. 

"Orac, can you scan the equipment and see if everything is assembled properly and fully functional?"

"Certainly I can."

Soolin said, "Do it then." She was sorry she'd taken the monster from Avon. They deserved each other. A match made in heaven if ever there was one.

"The equipment is properly assembled and operational. However, once more I must point out the danger of its use. Under these conditions, the hazards are..."

"Yes, yes, I know. Orac, you explained it all to me."

"I can be of use to you in other ways," the computer almost sounded desperate. "I am capable of foretelling the future, Soolin. Would that not be more useful to you than this highly ill-advised search for your past?"

"I don't want a machine reading my palm, Orac. I took you because Avon didn't have the nerve to do what must be done. I want to know what the Federation took from me, and I have to know if they implanted any programming. All I have is myself, Orac. That's all I've been able to depend on for most of my life. I'm not going to live wondering what I did or what I'm capable of doing against my will. I must know, Orac, despite any risks."

"If you insist."

"I do."

"It is unlikely that more than one year of your memory was blanked. If this works it should not take long."

"And if it doesn't work, the maid will get a nasty surprise when she comes to tidy the room." Soolin checked the wires leading from Orac, attaching the other ends of one set of leads to her temples. "What do I do with the second set of wires, Orac?"

"Nothing. I had you acquire them on the remote chance that this procedure would be done properly, in tandem with another human being. Unless you care to..."

"No, I am not returning to Vindicator and asking the others to join me. If it works, I might consider contacting them." She lay down on the bed, settled herself as comfortably as possible without dislodging the leads and took a deep breath. "All right, Orac, do it."

"This is against my better judgment."

"Do it anyway. This is a direct order."

"Very well."

Soolin stiffened, and her breathing became harsh and ragged. 

Orac said, "You will remember, Soolin."

***

"This is embarrassing," Tarrant complained, softly, to Dayna.

"Well, yes, it is, a bit," she admitted. They could hardly be said to be inconspicuous, tailing behind the squeaking, erratically maneuvering, luggage cart. The thing had a tendency to get caught in the cracks of the walkways and beep loudly for help until it was hauled free. Vila usually got that task, trying to make up to Avon for his part in Orac's theft.

"Still," she said brightly, "at least we're finally working as a team."

Tarrant rolled his eyes at that remark. "I could wish it were under other circumstances. Anyway, don't think this is going to change anything. Even if Soolin doesn't kill us all, and Avon does get Orac back, we're still splitting up."

"I don't think so." Dayna laced arms with Tarrant. "Look at Avon and Vila. They're talking to each other. And I'm sure Vila would stay if we'd just promise to let him steal something once in a while. "

"Do we really want Vila?"

"I like him. And it would be nice to hit back at the Federation. He'd be useful there. And so would Avon."

"Vindicator is not going to defeat the Federation. I am not going to take on fleets of pursuit ships."

"Would be exciting, though."

"Dayna," Tarrant began, then he noticed the twinkle in her eyes. He sighed. "When are you going to learn that battle is not an organized sport?"

"It's not my fault no one wants to follow the rules. The trolley's turning into that building. I think it's a hotel," she said dubiously.

Once they reached the 'lobby' Vila kicked the little cart, but it had gone dead. "I guess this is it." He gave the thing an extra thump just to express his feelings. "Do we wait for Soolin to come down- she has to sooner or later, and she'd be less likely to start shooting out in public, don't you think?"

"That's the trouble, Vila. I do think, and so does Soolin. She is not going to walk into our waiting arms." Avon went to the desk, where a tired-looking individual of indeterminate gender made a brief protest about the guests' privacy before accepting a bribe to tell them Soolin's room number. As soon as the quartet had left, he called Soolin's room, hoping for a pay-off from her for the warning. He received no answer and shrugged. The blonde was armed and looked tough. She'd handle them and then he'd get paid for disposing of the corpses.

***

"Can't we knock?" Vila whispered, crouched down, tools in hand, before the hotel room door with the others gathered around him. "Soolin can be very nasty when she's surprised."

"Just open it, Vila." Avon had a vague idea that Soolin had deliberately stopped at the hotel, waiting for him to catch up to bargain for Orac. At the moment, he couldn't imagine what he had that she could possibly want, but he was sure she'd thought of something. He had always admired her for her cool, logical thinking. At any rate, he didn't think she'd shoot an unarmed man. Not unless it seemed necessary. 

The door opened. Vila ducked down and to the side, with his eyes squeezed shut and his hands over his ears. Nothing happened. After a moment, he opened his eyes. "We got the wrong room?" he said, hopefully. "Soolin isn't there?"

"It's the right room." Avon stood just inside the room, partly blocking the view. "Soolin is here. But she has done something very foolish," he said softly.

"What?" Dayna pushed past Avon, expecting from his tone and words, to find Soolin had committed suicide, although she was the last person in the universe Dayna would have expected to do that. She'd lived through too much and fought too hard to survive to take her own life. "Soolin?" The body on the bed was very still, but there wasn't any blood. And what were those wires leading from her head to Orac?

Tarrant peered past Dayna and took in the scene rapidly. Dayna was frozen in shock, so he led her inside. "Get in here, Vila. And shut the door." The last thing they needed was an audience.

Avon knelt beside Soolin for a moment, stretching his hand out to trace the wires, without quite touching them. "Orac," he said harshly, "what have you done?"

"What I was ordered to do," the computer replied primly. "Soolin wished to remove the memory block."

"She didn't like not knowing, Avon," Vila said. He looked miserable. "I didn't know that's why she wanted Orac," he protested when the others turned to glare at him. "She just said... well, she said at first it'd be a joke on Avon, then she said we could get a lot of money for the scabby little box. I can resist anything except temptation. What would you do, Tarrant, if a beautiful lady wanted your help?"

"I wouldn't have gotten myself into this mess." Tarrant scowled. 

"What's wrong with her?" Dayna asked. "Orac, tell me!"

"This procedure requires a second human- one whose memories have not been tampered with- to monitor in conjunction with treatment to ameliorate the artificially induced amnesia. Soolin should not have attempted the treatment alone. I am unable to complete the procedure, or to awaken her. Her brain patterns are fixed in a repeating loop."

Soolin twitched and moaned softly, "Avon," she muttered, "don't."

Tarrant looked at Avon. "I wonder what she's remembering?"

Orac said, "She is recalling her last conscious moments before the programming was instituted."

Avon went pale and turned aside. Tarrant put his hand on Avon's arm, and was savagely shaken off. "Avon? You know what she's remembering, don't you?"

Avon moved away, and stood with his head hanging and fists balled tight at his sides, wincing as Soolin cried out softly to him once more. "Yes. I warned you all that you should leave well enough alone. This is the result." 

"If we take off the wires, will she come around, do you think?" Vila asked.

Avon whirled back. "No! Don't touch her. Orac, what is your prognosis?"

"Condition terminal- unless immediate restorative action taken."

"What restorative action?" Dayna asked, when Avon didn't continue.

"Avon must share the memory with Soolin in order for it to conclude."

"No!" Avon said harshly. "I won't. You can't force me to do this," he told Tarrant as the pilot approached. "Soolin took her chances - against my advice - and she lost."

"She did it because you wouldn't help," Tarrant informed him. "Look at her. She'll die, Avon. And it will be on your head. All because you don't have the guts to face the past."

Avon lifted his head to glare at Tarrant. "It's easy enough to be brave when you don't know what you'll be facing."

"Avon." Dayna put her hand on his arm, lightly. "I think Soolin did this for us. Can't you help her?"

"I don't know." He glanced back at the body on the bed. "Orac, if I were to assist, what are the chances that Soolin would recover?"

"Excellent. Provided you do not delay."

"And the risk to myself?"

"Minimal. There may be some discomfort involved, but actual injury is most unlikely."

Avon still hesitated. 

"Go on, Avon," Vila urged. "I'd do it if it would help." At Avon's scowl, Vila said, "Orac said it wouldn't hurt much."

"Orac said, 'some discomfort' might be involved. Orac is not human, and its definition of 'discomfort' covers a wide range of sensation."

"But that's not why you don't want to do it, is it Avon?" Tarrant asked. "It's the memory itself that disturbs you." He was sympathetic. He didn't think Avon was a coward, but it was obvious he'd been broken fairly thoroughly at one time. Otherwise he was far too proud and arrogant a man to have meekly accepted Servalan's offer of virtual slavery. Slavery which he'd preferred to escaping with Tarrant and Dayna once they'd remembered enough to find him. And now they were asking him to voluntarily relive whatever had shattered his self-confidence. 

Avon recognized Tarrant's pity, and was suddenly angry. "All right," he snapped. "Orac, I take it the procedure is the same as..." he stumbled over his words, then continued, apparently changing what he was about to say, "the same as before."

"Yes. Both programming and memory erasure may be counteracted in the same fashion. However, memory restoration is much simpler when there has been no overlay of false memories. One session is all that will be required...for each subject."

Avon frowned at the thought that having given in once, he would be expected to repeat the process for Tarrant, Dayna and Vila. At any rate, that was beside the point now. He picked up the spare set of wires. "All I need to do is attach these leads?"

"Everything is prepared. However, I would suggest you recline and permit someone else to attach them."

Stiffly, Avon laid himself on the bed next to Soolin. He glanced at the pale face so close to his own, then shut his eyes. "Dayna. Place the monitor wires to correspond with Soolin's."

"Yes." Dayna sorted out the leads, and carefully pressed them in place on Avon's temples. As the final contact was made he sighed and slumped, unconscious. Dayna checked Avon's pulse. It was steady, but fast. His eyes began moving under the lids, as he entered Soolin's dream state.

"No," Avon muttered. "Can't. Don't do this." He shook his head, eyes still tightly shut. Dayna attempted to soothe him with her touch, but he was oblivious. "Tarrant says... but he doesn't know. It can't be. Wait. Let me think." Avon jerked, nearly dislodging the leads.

"Tarrant! Vila!" Dayna held Avon down until the two men could take over. She glanced at Soolin, who was lying motionless now, brows slightly screwed up, as though she were listening to something confusing. Avon was restless, still, and Tarrant leaned heavily on his shoulders, while Vila pinned Avon's legs to the bed.

"Is it true?" Avon sounded confused and lost. " Did you betray us? Did you betray me?" There was a pause while Avon breathed heavily, but said nothing. "Stand still!" Avon hissed. His hands moved, holding an imaginary gun. His trigger finger clenched, once, then again, and finally for a third time. He froze then, for a few seconds that stretched to eternity, then his lips pulled back in a horrid parody of a grin. He moved again, but without the urgency of before, miming the shooting of a weapon, then he grunted, as if taking a blow and collapsed, breathing harshly, with tears welling up at the corners of his eyes.

"What the hell was that all about?" Vila asked, shocked.

"He just killed his best friend," Soolin said, startling them into turning to face her. She wiped tears from her own face and pulled off her leads, wincing. 

"You're all right?" Dayna asked, hurrying over to help Soolin rise.

Soolin was shaky, but quickly steadied. "Yes." She went to Avon and stood over him, then shook her head. "I'd have never thought it of him."

"I dunno." Vila looked at Avon. "I wouldn't put it past him."

"I don't mean that, Vila. I meant how much it hurt Avon to do it." Soolin said sharply. "I'd have shot the man if Avon hadn't. It certainly looked like he'd betrayed us. I still don't know whether he did or not."

"No. He didn't." Avon's voice was flat, leaving no room for argument. He lay still, staring up at the ceiling. "Servalan took great pleasure in explaining all the details to me. Blake was waiting for me. To join him. And I killed him." Slowly, Avon stripped away the leads from his forehead, then threw them from him.

"But how did we get captured then?" Dayna asked. "I mean, if he didn't turn us in, who did?"

"Servalan's spies had infiltrated Blake's base months before our arrival. But she was waiting to take it, hoping we would eventually come. She wanted Orac. Blake was of no use to her even as a trophy. He was old news back on Earth, the seat of her power."

"So what did she have planned for this Blake?" Vila asked, curious. He'd worked for Servalan for quite some time and knew she was utterly ruthless. Frankly, he hadn't minded losing her employment. The woman was frightening.

"Something rather nasty. He did know names in the underground, codes, meeting places, plans for assaults on disaffected planets, overall strategy. That information was valuable, even though he wasn't."

Tarrant thought what the interrogators would do to an expendable man with such information. He shuddered. "You actually did him a favor, Avon." 

"Oh, yes. I'm quite sure Blake saw it that way, as he was dying in my arms; gut shot by his 'friend'." Avon's voice was toneless. He did finally sit up, putting his legs over the side of the bed, but made no effort to rise.

"He was a rebel leader. Given the choice between torture and betraying all his comrades, and a swift death, what do you think he would have chosen?"

"Well, now, Blake was always an idealistic fool. But I wasn't. I didn't kill him because it would help the Cause of Freedom, or save his people, or spare him torture. I shot the man down because I felt betrayed." Avon laughed. "I betrayed him, because I thought he betrayed me."

Tarrant shook his head. "It was a mistake, Avon. A horrible mistake, but not betrayal. It was a long time ago. Let it go."

"Why should I? It was the fore-ordained culmination of my life. When I look back on it, I can see how it was inevitable. Everyone I've trusted has either betrayed me, or been betrayed by me."

"Not everyone, surely. Did we betray you?"

"No," Avon admitted. "But if you do reclaim your memories, there will be certain events - to put it frankly, I was fighting for my life, and I considered all of you expendable. That I didn't actually manage to kill you, does not negate the fact that I would have, without a second thought, if necessary. And nearly did on occasion."

"That's a nice thing to say," Vila commented, upset. "Here and I was beginning to think we'd been friends."

"Ah, that's the worst part, Vila. I believe we were. And it would not have stopped me." Avon looked around at the solemn faces, and smiled. "Now that Soolin has discovered how dangerous Orac is, and you have learned how dangerous I am, I believe the time has come for me to take my leave of you all." He stood and picked up Orac. 

"No." Tarrant was surprised to hear himself. Even Dayna had accepted Avon's decision. 

"What will you do, Tarrant?" Avon said wearily, "Knock me out and carry me back to your ship again?"

"If I have to. If what you say is true, Avon, then why did you bargain with Servalan for our lives?"

"Because I was tired of failure, that's all. I'd been stuck in Blake's rebellion for four years- four long years of constant, grinding, depressing failure. Keeping you alive was one small victory. One tiny plus mark on my ledger. Meaningless, really."

"Meaningless to Servalan, but not you."

Avon shrugged. "What would you have me say, Tarrant? That I cared about all of you? I am not sentimental. I never was."

"I wasn't talking about sentiment."

"What then?"

"We were a team, Avon. And we must have been a damn fine one to survive as long as we did with the entire Federation hunting us. I hate to lose something that worked."

"It wouldn't work any longer. Don't you understand? I gave up. I surrendered. I don't have it in me to fight anymore."

"I never wanted to fight," Vila put in. "A nice, quiet life of thievery for me. You know, Avon, the offer I made before still holds. If you want a partner in crime..."

"You tempt me, Vila. You also show how little sense you have. If you hadn't enough of following my orders, I certainly had enough of giving them."

Tarrant reclaimed Avon's attention. "Perhaps you don't want to lead anymore, Avon. But you wouldn't have to."

"Oh, I see, the gallant captain Tarrant would be happy to provide me with my marching orders. No, I can't say as that would be much of an improvement."

"Actually, what I had in mind was more of a cooperative venture. We all have valuable talents. We should all have an equal say in what we do."

"A democracy- that was never very efficient in battle."

"It could be, provided we work as a team. I don't think we need a leader, someone to issue orders and crack the whip."

"Oh, and what will we do when Vila falls into a bottle and forgets to come out? Or Dayna thinks it would be amusing to blow up a few things we hadn't agreed on? Or..."

"Or you decide to sulk under the consoles for a few weeks?" Tarrant cut in. "We'll learn to compensate for each other's weaknesses. You could give us a try, Avon."

"Why should I?"

Vila piped up, "Because we already know what a bastard you are. Think of the time you'd save having to teach a new group."

Avon's face changed, the tension suddenly eased. He'd made his decision. He thrust Orac at Vila. "Since you already know what a bastard I am, you won't mind carrying Orac."

"Should have kept my mouth shut." Vila wasn't sure whether to be flattered or frightened that he had won Avon's favor over Tarrant. He moved toward the door. "Um, where are we going?"

"Back to the Vindicator ." Avon looked at Tarrant. "I will give it a try. But there will be no more sentimental arguments."

"No, of course not, Avon." Tarrant grinned and behind Avon's back, made the victory sign to Dayna, who giggled.

"And I could do without that, as well," Avon remarked, without turning.

Soolin chuckled at Tarrant's startlement. "That's nothing to what I could tell you, now that I remember."

Dayna linked arms with Tarrant and Soolin and whispered, "Wait till we get Vila's stories. He was with Avon longer than any of us."

"Oh, no," Tarrant groaned. "And I thought the stories he tells now are bad. Maybe we can convince Vila to stay behind."

"On Helibah!" Vila screeched from ahead of them. "Are you out of your mind! The only planet in the known universe where the booze tastes like it was dripped through dirty socks?"

Avon commented, "I should think you were accustomed to that. As I recall, the still you had on Xenon did use one of your socks as part of the filtration system."

"Well, if I did use a sock, it was a clean one."

The man behind the hotel desk was disappointed as the group descended on the lobby, smiling. Even the dark-haired man who'd been so upset previously was smiling. The blonde hadn't killed anyone. There went his big tip. Oh, well, tomorrow was another day.


End file.
